7/13/2011

This Six Decades Monologue isn't flowing too well.
I keep getting side tracked by the present.

That said...and so it came to pass that

somewhere between a rock and a hard place, the truth will rain down. Decisions are made, knowing deep inside that there are consequences that may not be the ones originally intended.

And you know...you just know.

That what you are about to do is probably not the smartest thing you've ever done in your life..but you do it anyways.

That is to say, I did.

I got married. I was 20 years old and he was 23.

I had completed my Bachelor of Arts in under two years, and I had gone to work in a residential school up north in Moose Factory. The boy I met just before graduation from university was IT!
But he wouldn't move in with me...
his parents wouldn't like it he said.(Warning flag waving, and being ignored.)

Prior to putting the wedding invitations into the mailbox,

I sat holding them in my hands for an hour, looking at them,

and telling myself it was "just the jitters."

But it wasn't Jitters.

It was Me. Calling Home.

I was just too busy being young to answer.

The night before the wedding I asked my Maid of Honour

if she would also come to my divorce.
Because I knew that there would likely be one...

And so I became a missus.

We just never really seemed to fit quite right

and for a while we had fun trying.

Lots of fun.

Then lots of not so much fun.

Eight years in came the first real grown up moment- realizing that the only thing that needed changing wasn't him or me,

it was us.

We were like oil and water.

Gemini and Scorpio.

Rabbit and Rat.

All depended on which upper authority was in vogue that month,

but it came down to this everlasting thought:

You get what you accept.

And so we rejected each other.

This version of that time doesn't include the drama, trauma, pain, and heartbreak. Those were the things we felt for several years after.

But neither of us ever tried to re-invent our particular wheel.

We both knew we were wrong then and right now.

It would be a frosty Friday in hell before

we ever warmed a bench together again.

I have a million thoughts about why so many people make so many bad choices for their "life mates", but so many books have been written, so many careers as marriage counselors established,